


Bridges Don't Burn Underwater

by Cydersyrup



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Body insecurity, Character Study, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Crisis, Implied Violence, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun Needs a Hug, Light Angst, M/M, Quarter-life crises, but in the process he goes AWOL and gives everyone else a heart attack, but just a smidge - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cydersyrup/pseuds/Cydersyrup
Summary: Sometimes it just takes everyone Jaehyun knows and their mothers to shout at him over voicemail for him to pull his head out of his ass.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Comments: 20
Kudos: 132





	Bridges Don't Burn Underwater

**Author's Note:**

> I...have no excuses. None.

When Jaehyun checks his phone for the first time since he left his apartment earlier in the evening, he’s not surprised to see it blown up with hundreds of texts from several different numbers. His voicemail is also crammed chock-full of messages, enough to make a podcast with if he plays them one after another. 

He’s been walking outside for hours now. It’s been enough that he isn’t even sure exactly how much time has passed since he promised his husband that he’ll be home soon after he clears his head. Doyoung had looked him dead in the eye and told him to be careful on his way out.

And Jaehyun knows in his heart that Doyoung knows that he needs more than just some time to sort out his thoughts.

His body is still standing and strong, but his mind is hollowed. Jaehyun hasn’t felt this sort of drain in years. He wants to go home. He wants to curl up in Doyoung’s arms and feel small as his husband holds and comforts him in that way only he knows how.

But Jaehyun can’t do it. Not like this. The blinking lights of the city reminds him of other blinking, flashing lights. His head is full of voices that don’t belong to him, and they slander him. His physique. His face. His mannerisms.

He just wants them to go away.

The movements are more habit than anything else, as Jaehyun clicks the little voicemail icon and brings his phone up to his ear to listen to those familiar voices. He needs to know. He has to know that he’s still worth something in the world.

_‘Jae, hey. I tried calling you earlier but you didn’t pick up. I was wondering if you’re gonna come home soon for dinner. It’s getting late. I know you need some time to clear your head, but you gotta eat. Call me when you get the chance, alright?’_

Doyoung’s voice is soft and concerned. Jaehyun can almost hear how he’s pacing around in their flat as the voicemail is recorded. 

_‘Jae. It’s really late. I saved you some food, and it’s in the refrigerator. Gimme a call back when you can, okay? Come home soon.”_

Doyoung sounds a little more worried now. He’s probably staying up late waiting for Jaehyun to come home, even though Jaehyun already decided that he won’t.

_‘Sorry to bother you again, Jae, but uh...it’s like 2 AM now and I know you’re under a lot of stress, but I’m getting worried. Please just call me back or gimme a text to let me know where you are. Please.’_

The words are uneven and a little breathy. Doyoung sounds like he’s trying not to cry, and Jaehyun is sure that he’s succeeding, because Doyoung rarely cries. He’s just worried. He cares too much.

_'Hey Jaehyun, it’s Johnny. I don’t mean to get on your case, dude, but Doyoung just called me and told me you still aren’t home yet. The poor guy’s worried sick and to be honest, so am I. Where are you, Jae? If you need anything we’re all here for you, okay?’_

Good ‘ol Johnny Seo, Jaehyun’s best friend since they were practically babies. He’s probably the only other person besides Doyoung who Jaehyun would confide all his secrets in, both professional and personal. Jaehyun just knows Johnny’s already awake and calling Jaehyun’s family at this point to try and gauge his whereabouts. 

It wouldn’t be any use, though, because Jaehyun didn’t tell anyone where he’s going.

_‘JJ, hey! It’s Yong. Doie just called and said you haven’t come home yet. He thought you were with me, but I told him you weren’t. Ah, sorry if I was supposed to lie. I didn’t. Oopsies. Where are you, anyways? It’s cold outside and really late now. Come back soon, okay? We’re all waiting for you—Lele, I’m trying to call Uncle Jae right now, go back to bed—so please, call any one of us so we know you’re safe, at least! Stay safe on your way back!”_

There’s the sound of a child talking in the background, and Taeyong saying something in return before the message cuts out. Jaehyun smiles sadly at thinking about his nephews that are probably just as worried as their father over Jaehyun’s whereabouts. His situation really must’ve hit a new low if even the in-laws are getting involved.

_‘Jae-ah, I hope you’re doing alright. I got a call from Doyoung earlier, and he was really upset. He asked me if you were on a cafe run with me again, and clearly, no, because I’m supposed to be sleeping right now, and so should you. Why are you out so late, anyways? Is everything going okay at home? Is it stress from work? Because if it is, that’s an easy fix. Come meet me for lunch tomorrow at the agency, yeah? I’ll take you out to this new fruit dessert cafe I discovered a while back. Everything’s pure fruit, so you won’t gain any weight. You’ll love it.’_

Jaehyun smiles at the message. Sicheng is always so thoughtful. That comes with the territory, he supposes. Nobody knows how hard it is to maintain a figure in the world of modeling outside Jaehyun himself and a couple others. He’s not Johnny, who’s blessed with natural height and a freakish metabolism, and he’s not like Yuta, who does enough sports in his leisure time to never worry about gaining a single gram. Maybe he should take up Sicheng on his offer, though. Fruit does sound really nice.

 _‘Hyung! Hyung, hyung, hyung—oh shit, sorry, this is Mark.”_ The boy sounds absolutely frantic, as though he’s just barely keeping himself from shouting straight into the phone. _“Hyung, seriously, where are you? Like it’s late as hell, y’gotta come home before Doyoung-hyung completely loses his shit. It’s bad, man. He showed up outside my door and he’s crying. I live on the other side of the city, dude! I have class tomorrow—today—you get the point! Where ARE you?!’_

 _‘Jaehyun! God, I’ve been trying to call you four times already!’_ It’s Ten, Jaehyun and Doyoung’s boss. He’s yelling into the phone without any reserve, as is typical of the fiery fashion designer. _‘Listen, I did NOT just wake up at ass o’clock in the morning to Doyoung sobbing to me that he can’t find you. Now you listen to me here, you lil’ shit. Pull your head outta your ass and go the fuck home. You have a husband to do some explaining to. I swear, if you’re not home in the next hour, I’m calling the cops.’_

Jaehyun doesn’t doubt Ten on that, not in the least. His boss may be small and delicate in appearance, but his temper and protectiveness over his friends and family is something fierce. Jaehyun feels fear prick inside him just at the thought of ever showing up to work again. Ten will tear him a new one and a half for this night, he just knows it.

At least he didn’t threaten to fire Jaehyun. Small mercies.

 _‘Jaehyun.’_ The voice in the next voicemail is gentler. Calmer. Jaehyun recognizes it as Kun, their brand’s head makeup artist and Ten’s husband. _‘Forgive Ten. He’s upset and worried about you. We all are. Please give one of us a call back and let us know that you’re okay. You don’t need to tell us where you are. Just please, go home safely. Whatever it is you’re dealing with, I’m sure we can all help you figure it out. Call me back when you can.’_

 _‘Jaehyunnie, please pick up,’_ Jungwoo’s sweet, tired voice coos over the phone. _‘Pick up the phone and call one of us so I’ll stop getting bombarded with calls and texts when I have to look pretty in the morning, okay? You have to look pretty too, baby. So please don’t stay out so late and get some rest. We’ve got a big show to prepare for really soon, and the team needs you to be at your best. I need you to be at your best, because that’s what you are and what you’ve always been. Get home safe. Love ya!’_

 _‘HYUNG!’_ Jaehyun actually has to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment, lest he loses his hearing. There’s no question whose voice that belongs to, even without the blatant shrieking. _‘Hyuck here, and Mark’s there, and Yongie-hyung called us after apparently calling you an hour ago and where the fuck are you?! Seriously?! I can’t just have my cousin call me after Yongie-hyung called him after your husband called Yongie-hyung, because that’s ridiculous! Wait, is that the right order? Shit. Whatever, just come back home already, alright? Whatever you’re going MIA for, I promise you, you’re overthinking. Just get home. Please. If you die out there, Mark and Yongie-hyung will never forgive me.’_

Jaehyun wants to just hug Donghyuck and tell the kid that this has absolutely nothing to do with him. This is Jaehyun’s issue, and his issue alone. Nobody else needs to know what storm is brewing in his mind, or what fog is clouding his rationality. 

Not even Doyoung.

Because the issue at hand is simple. Almost too simple.

Jaehyun was made to be perfect.

And he’s not.

A bright light flashes before his vision, and Jaehyun tilts his head up to meet the illuminated letters on the tall building before him. His heart sinks a little, because of course, of all the places in this godforsaken city, his muscle memory brings him back to the bane of his existence. The lobby of the building is brightly lit with warm lights, and there’s still a couple people milling about inside, even at this hour. They’re beautiful people. Hardworking people. 

It’s a building of dreams. Of opportunities. It’s everything Jaehyun once wanted and only a fraction of what he received. But more than that, it’s a building of calculated steps and meticulous organization. Everything has to be perfect. Not a single hair out of place.

Jaehyun, out of place as he is, puts his phone in his pocket and pushes past the revolving doors.

* * *

_‘Jae. Listen to me. I know you have your issues to deal with, and I understand. But please. Please just come home.’_ Doyoung’s voice breaks towards the end, and a sob slips through. _‘I’m begging you. I’m worried. Please just come home. God, please.’_

_‘Hyung! You have to come home now! Please! Doyoung-hyung dipped an hour ago but now I’m scared shitless because it’s the crack of fucking dawn and nobody knows where you are, goddamn it! You can’t just do this to us, man! Johnny’s about to send a search team after you and I’m pretty sure the boss is THIS close to firing your ass. Hyuck won’t stop screaming to me and my big bro’s about to drive all the three hours down to look for you and fuck, hyung, we can’t do that to him! Where ARE you?!’_

_‘Okay, Jaehyun. This has been going on long enough. You have everyone and their mothers looking for you right now, you crazy son of a bitch. Fucking hell, MY mother’s calling around asking people if they’ve seen you, and she’s in Thailand! My cousin too! And he’s in Hong fucking Kong! Your ass better not be dead in a ditch or split into roadkill, because if it’s not, that can be totally arranged when I get my hands on you. Can’t you see how worried you’re making all of us? Why the fuck aren’t you answering your phone?! At least let one of us know you’re alive so I can kill you!’_

_‘Uncle JJ, it’s Lele! Daddy’s trying to go out right now, so I’m calling you. Papa won’t let him, though. He says it’s phew-tile? I dunno what that means, but I heard from Daddy that you went for a walk at night and didn’t come home yet. I hope you’re safe! You should really go home, though. Uncle Doie might get worried. Are you and Uncle Doie still coming next weekend to take me and Sungie to see your pretty clothes? I’m really excited for it! I can’t wait until you come, Uncle JJ! I love you, bye-bye!’_

_‘Jae, it’s Taeil-hyung. Look, I don’t wanna be the bad guy here, but I had to physically restrain my husband from running out the house and drive all the way down to your city to look for you, and now he’s locked in our bathroom. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to cut his way through the door with a nail file right about now. Can you please call one of us—literally any one of us—and just tell us that you’re alive? I really don’t know what got into you, and it’s not my place to care, but from what I’ve heard, you’ve been gone almost eight hours now. If this is a joke, it’s not funny. Your husband and all of us—god, your entire family is beside themselves. Just please get home safe. I’m praying for you, Jae. Please get home safe.’_

_‘Hey Cupid, ‘s Yuta. Look man, I dunno what went on last night, but I just woke up, and my phone’s literally overloaded with texts and calls from Doyoung, Ten, Kun, Woo, and half the design and management team. I love you, but you can’t just up and leave us here, you dick. Are you okay? What’s going on? If you need to be picked up anywhere, I got you. Lemme know if you need anything, alright? I better see you on the set in three hours, okay? And you better be alive and in one piece. Later.’_

_‘Jaehyun, I just called Doyoung and Johnny and they said you still aren’t home yet. Ten is calling the cops as I speak. This is madness! I really hope you’re still alive out there, because god forbid if the company loses one of our top models—no, you know what, scratch that. If Ten and I lose one of our close friends, it’ll be hell on earth. We can’t lose you, Jaehyun. I hope you know that. We all care about you so much, and everyone’s pooling together to look for you right now! Call me back, please. Whenever you can. Just do it.’_

The hallways are alight with both the delicate hall lamps and the sunlight spilling from the windows on both ends of the hall. Jaehyun’s feet carry him down the beige carpet floor, thudding lightly against the flat surface as he feels himself draw closer and closer to his destination.

He needs help. He needs to get away from all of this.

 _‘Hyung!’_ three voices choir over the phone. _‘We heard from—Mark-hyung said—I just called Doie-hyung—shut up, I’m talking! We heard that you’ve gone missing! Jeno’s already got a bag packed, we’re coming over to save you, hyung! Jaemin, quit hogging the phone, lemme speak! Fuck off, Injunnie! Okay, so I’m trying to track your location right now, and you can’t scold me for this, because what if you’re dead—’_

There’s the sound of a sharp smack and a pained yelp over the line, before the message resumes.

_‘—and you can’t give us shit for skipping class right now, because I’m about to shit my pants and Jeno’s already starting the car. Stay put, hyung, we’re coming! We’ll save you!’_

Jaehyun doesn’t need saving. Not from the kids, at least. He loves them, and knows that they all mean well, but they shouldn’t be dragging themselves into his mess. Not that the gesture isn’t appreciated, because there’s no doubt in Jaehyun’s mind that Jeno’s already flooring it towards him with the help of Renjun’s uncanny hacking abilities. He just hopes that when they do arrive in his city, that they’re all alive and functioning, still. Jeno’s a sweetheart, but his driving skills have much to be desired for.

 _‘Hyung!’_ Sungchan’s voice sounds uneven, like he’d just finished crying. Maybe he has. _‘What are you doing? I get up and the first thing that happened is mom telling me that you’re missing! Where are you? I’m scared, hyung! Why did you leave? Why did you leave Doie-hyung alone?! Come back!’_

A pit of guilt sinks in Jaehyun’s stomach upon hearing his little brother’s distressed cries, but there’s nothing much he can do right now to comfort the younger. He hasn’t seen Sungchan since the latter entered elementary school. He’s probably just entering middle school now. Jaehyun makes a mental note to go back to his hometown one day and pay his little brother a visit.

One day.

_‘Jae, I’m coming over right now. I don’t know what you’re up to, dude, but I’m not about to leave Doyoung there miserable and alone. You should be ashamed of yourself. He’s been running all over the goddamn city, calling up the entire fam and then some, and I don’t think he’s slept at all. Have you any idea what hell you’re putting us all through? Why can’t you ever tell us what’s bothering you? We have ears, we’ll hear you out. We always have. Whatever you’re going through, I promise, you don’t have to go through it alone.’_

There’s a door just to the side of Jaehyun’s vision. It’s just like every other door in the hallway—painted white, just a bit over seven feet tall, and embellished with a small silver number right above the peephole. There’s nothing special about it. It’s just a plank of wood with a coat of paint and blocking the space behind it from the publicity of the open hallway.

Jaehyun reaches out and wraps his hands around the silver-toned handle. The metal is cool to the touch, and his fingers are stiff as he pushes down and in, hoping that the door’s not locked, as it should be. As it was when he left it.

Bright light floods his vision first as the door swings open, unlocked and pliant in his hold. A waft of home-cooked food and fresh laundry hits him like a truck, the familiarity and comfort of it all washing over him like a security blanket. It grounds him, roots his feet into reality and pulls his head out of the black mass it was submerged in all night long.

Jaehyun has come home.

Like he knew he would.

Like his body has conditioned him to always do, no matter how far away he travels.

Because on the other side of this unassuming white door, is Jaehyun’s remedy. The only thing that keeps him standing instead of bowling over like a daisy in a hurricane.

Doyoung shoots up from his spot at the kitchen island the moment the door opens, and Jaehyun meets his eyes across the room. Then his eyes dart to all the other bodies scattered around the kitchen, dining room, and living room area. 

Johnny drops the bottle of water he’s holding at the same time as his jaw unhinges.

Mark’s hands are gripping the armrests of the loveseat he’s perched on, muscles tense and ready to spring. He’s dressed messily, baseball cap askew on messy, faded pink hair and t-shirt rumpled. He looks like he rolled out of bed and landed straight into Jaehyun’s apartment, which Jaehyun guesses wouldn’t be a stretch from the truth.

Ten and Kun both gape at him from the dining table, a single phone and mug of tea between them. Ten sucks in a breath and balls his fists, and Kun absently reaches over to hold his husband’s wrists to the table as he continues to stare at Jaehyun.

Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno perk up from behind their laptops, eyes blown wide and mouths agape. Jeno looks like he’s about to start crying. Jaemin blinks several times and turns to Renjun, who’s openly gawking at Jaehyun.

It’s quiet. Too quiet. Jaehyun can almost hear everyone’s thoughts in the eerie stillness.

“Oh my god.” The silence is broken as Doyoung lets out a shaky breath and steps forward. “Jae…”

Johnny stands up as well, hands trembling by his sides. "Thank god you're safe. We were afraid that—"

“What are you all doing here?” Jaehyun blurts out—like an _idiot_ —because apparently he hasn’t made enough mistakes in the last 8 hours. Doyoung freezes in his spot, mouth hanging open like a fish, before his expression scrunches into an angry snarl.

“Oh, shit,” Mark mutters.

“What are they doing here? WHAT ARE THEY DOING HERE?!” Doyoung yells, crossing the distance between them and slapping Jaehyun so hard he can _feel_ the red handprint manifesting on his skin. “What they’re doing here is worrying about you! Who the fuck do you think you are to leave me like that? Don’t you ever fucking disappear on me again!”

Tears well in Doyoung’s sharp black eyes, and they shine like mirrors. In them, Jaehyun can see a shattering version of himself and Doyoung both.

“Tell me, Doyoung,” Jaehyun says, a pained edge in his voice. He needs to know. He needs to hear it straight. “Why are you so worried?”

Doyoung bites his lips hard enough to bleed. The red stains his teeth and beads along the cracks in the thin skin like crimson pearls. He’s been biting at his lips an awful lot. Probably the whole night. Jaehyun will have to speak to him about that bad habit.

“Because I love you!” Doyoung shouts. His voice is shrill and brittle, like one strike from a hammer will just shatter it to tiny pieces. “I love you and I worry! Why can’t you see that, Jae? You leave with no explanation and won’t answer your phone, and I thought you might’ve died or something! We all thought that!”

Jaehyun thinks back to the thoughts that plagued him on his night walk. Why is Doyoung so worried about him? He’s not anyone super special. His fame reaches national magazines and perhaps a couple videos online, but nothing more. He’s not even that great at his job. Yuta’s always chuckling over him tripping over wires and banging into lights and cameras. The only thing he's got going for him is his face. And even that's not as perfect as people claim it to be.

“You love me…” Jaehyun mumbles, eyes shifting to the floor like a scolded child. “Why, though? I’m not perfect, Doyoung. You deserve better.”

“Oh, _hell_ no.” There’s a sharp screech as Ten leaps up from his chair. Kun and Johnny immediately rush over to restrain the shorter male before he can make a break for it and throttle Jaehyun.

Doyoung stares into Jaehyun’s eyes. His expression is calm now, but tears prick at his waterline, highlighting the redness of his eyes. He had been crying. For a long time, it seems.

“You’re not perfect?” Doyoung echoes, voice hollow and torn at the edges. “That’s why you just ran away without saying a goddamned thing? That’s what you had me and half the motherfucking city worried over?”

Jaehyun shrugs. “I’ve had time to think.”

“Well, then think about this.” Doyoung reaches out and takes Jaehyun’s hand. His fingers are warm around Jaehyun’s cold digits, soft compared to the coarseness of Jaehyun’s dry skin. “You think you’re only worthy of love if you’re perfect, but you aren’t perfect, Jae. You’re not!” Doyoung’s voice rises higher and higher with every word, no longer caring who heard them. 

“You were never perfect! Never! You snore in your sleep! You’re a messy eater! And you never do the fucking dishes even when I ask you over and over again!” Doyoung lists, counting off his fingers. “You were always zoning out in class and you have the worst time management skills! But guess what, Jae? I’ve loved you even so! I love you because you’re not perfect!”

The words sound harsh, and brutal, and a little resentful, but Doyoung’s expression is earnest and pained. Jaehyun feels that pain inside himself, tugging at the arteries of his heart and threatening to snap it all off and kill him.

“I love you because you’re not perfect,” Doyoung whimpers, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Jaehyun’s torso. “You try so hard to be perfect, but that’s not you. I didn’t fall for a prince, Jae. I fell for a human. A stumbling, stupid, beautiful human.” He raises his head to meet Jaehyun’s eyes once more, and Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s seen anyone more beautiful than Kim Doyoung, with his open heart and unwavering faith for someone so undeserving of it all.

“Don’t you love me?” Doyoung whispers. “Don’t you even love me enough to trust me with your heartache?”

Jaehyun unconsciously leans forward, until his forehead knocks gently into his husband’s. “I love you,” he says. And he means it. “I love you more than anything in the world. That’s why...that’s why I feel like I need to be perfect. Because you deserve perfection.”

Doyoung shakes his head, some tears slipping free and rolling down his cheeks with the action. “Well, I don’t want it. Fuck perfection. Fuck you. Give me my husband back. I want the big clumsy dork who doesn’t know how to operate the goddamn washing machine. Give him back to me.”

Jaehyun huffs out a laugh, raising his arms to wrap around Doyoung securely. For the first time since he left, he feels safe again. Whole again. The flashing lights and foreign voices are gone, drowned out by the steady weight in his arms and the scent of mangoes from Doyoung’s shampoo.

“You got him,” Jaehyun murmurs into Doyoung’s ear, pressing a kiss to the shell as he holds his husband the way he should have held him all night long. “I’ll be him, everyday from now on. For you, Doyoung.”

“For you too,” Doyoung sniffs, pressing his lips to the dip of Jaehyun’s dimples. “Be yourself for you, Jaehyun. Please.”

“Of course.”

Doyoung tilts his head up. “I fucking love you, you stupid bastard.”

Jaehyun smiles as he meets Doyoung’s lips with his own, and feels his own eyes water as he kisses his husband. “I love you too. I’m sorry.”

A loud sigh resonates from somewhere behind them, and Jaehyun and Doyoung both turn to see Ten standing there, securely held in place by Kun with a backhug. His eyes are shining something furious as he glares at Jaehyun, and he’s struggling in Kun’s grip, wrinkles forming on the satiny material of his blouse.

“Glad we got the sap outta the way, but Jung fucking Jaehyun, you have some motherfucking explaning to do!” the designer roars, thrashing in Kun’s arms and making threatening choking motions towards his model. “Lemme at him, Kun! I had to call the cops! Twice! I’ll kill him! I warned him already, lemme at him, I’ll rip him apart!”

“Babe, I think you need a nap,” Kun sighs tiredly as he manhandles Ten towards the door. “Excuse us. And Jaehyun, welcome back. We're glad you're safe.” Doyoung pulls Jaehyun out of the way and shoves the man behind himself, wincing as their boss continues to yowl and curse at Jaehyun the entire way out.

“Don’t you ever do this to any one of us again, Jung! Not ever! You got that, you pretty piece of shit?!” Ten screams as Kun drags him past the threshold. “And your ass better be at the shoot in two hours! ALL OF YOU! I don’t fucking care if you’re sleep-deprived, because so am I!”

“Yes, boss,” the entire room immediately answers.

Jeno frowns a moment later. “Hold on, we don’t even work for him.”

“We do, though,” Johnny sighs.

Jaemin reaches over and pinches Jeno’s lips shut. “Don’t fight it. We already skipped our first lecture. Might as well go to the shoot.”

“You heard him,” Doyoung says, turning to the small group still gathered in the apartment. “Now out, all of you. Jae has a lotta apologizing to do, and I need time to beat his ass in peace.”

Jaehyun squeaks. “Doyoung!”

“In that case, we’ll leave you alone,” Johnny drawls, ushering the youngsters out. “Just don’t hit his face, alright? I need something pretty to photograph.”

Doyoung snaps his head back to shoot Jaehyun a quick glare, and the threat in them is evident enough. “Oh, you’ll get pretty, alright. There’s no such thing that makeup and Kun can’t fix.”

* * *

“Wow. I...have no words.”

Jaemin sets down the magazine and turns to Mark. “Hyung, I get that the theme is ‘Fight or Flight’, but why does Jaehyun-hyung have a black eye and split lip? Isn’t the smudged lipstick and fake scratches already enough? How much makeup did Kun-hyung plaster onto him?”

Mark looks at the picture Jaemin’s pointing at and winces. “Uh...that’s not makeup.”

“What do you mean that’s not makeup?” Jaemin raises the magazine again and squints at the page. “Did Doie-hyung actually hit him?”

“No.”

“So it is makeup, then.”

“No.”

“So the eye and the lip are real?”

“Yes.”

“Who hit him?”

“Ten.” Mark lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. "Here's a PSA: when you see him walk towards you without bending his knees, fucking run."

**Author's Note:**

> I regret nothing (OvO)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Cydersyrup)  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/Cydersyrup)


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